


Betsy and Betty

by vassalady



Category: Captain America (Comics), Namor the Sub-Mariner (Comics)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 13:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5667409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Betsy Ross accompanies Peggy to meet Peggy's school friend, Betty Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betsy and Betty

Betsy Ross hated the nickname Betsy. Betty sounded more grown up, more refined. Betsy was like a little doll. Unfortunately, she could not get anyone to actually call her Betty.

Not even Peggy would, but she didn’t mind so much with Peggy. They had been friends since they were little girls in diapers. Betsy had spent more summers with Peggy on the Carter Family’s Virginia country estate than with her father. Betsy had never minded, because without her father there, she and Peggy could get into all sorts of trouble.

Of course the biggest trouble came during the last summer Betsy stayed with Peggy’s family. They were meant to be young ladies by then, but Peggy would lend Betsy a pair of trousers, and they would traipse through the fields. That summer, Peggy had the idea to go upstate to visit an old school friend of hers. Although Betsy asked, Peggy refused to share the name of this school friend.

They took an early train, but it was well after lunch by the time they arrived. Betsy was famished, and she followed Peggy blindly as she led her through the city.

A cab ride later, they wound up at a modest looking building. Peggy grinned ear to ear as she knocked and waited for someone to answer. The person who did was a girl around their age, sixteen or seventeen, with hair as blond as Peggy’s. The girl and Peggy hugged, delighted to see one another, and Betsy stood, a little self-consciously, she was surprised to find, behind. 

“Now, Betty, this is my dearest and oldest friend,” Peggy said as she grabbed Betsy’s hand.

Betsy thought that she should be Peggy’s dearest and oldest friend, but she wasn’t about to say so in front of a stranger. She had manners.

Just as she was about to say, “How do you do,” Peggy went on to say, “And Betsy, this is my most favorite classmate, Betty Dean.”

It took a moment for Betsy to process. “Betty Dean?”

“Betsy?” Betty, hand up to her pretty mouth, said at the same time.

Peggy was the proverbial cat with her grin. 

“Yes, Betsy and Betty, isn’t it delightful?” She hooked her arm through Betsy’s and turned toward Betty. “Now are you going to let us in or will we have to stand here all day and night?”

Betty recovered and welcomed them in with a warm smile. After they had eaten a very late lunch, which Betsy was extremely thankful for, they rambled around the city, skirts exchanged for trousers, just as if they were all on Peggy’s estate. 

Betty shared as much of a fondness for adventure as Peggy. It was easy to see why the two got on well.

Betsy also really liked the way Betty would turn and smile at her. It made her heart flutter.

\--

Much, much later, during a different summer’s afternoon, Betsy paged through the paper, a cigarette dangling between her lips, as Betty stretched out on her stomach beside her on the bed. Betty was meant to be reading her policewoman’s handbook, but Betsy caught her eye wandering more than once.

“What is it?” she finally asked, putting the paper down and stubbing out the cigarette. “You’re as restless as a new recruit.”

“I am a new recruit,” Betty said. She waved the handbook in front of Betsy’s face. “Maybe not your special military intelligence unit, but policing is a lot of work.”

“Mmm, but there won’t be any work at all if you don’t finish that.” Betsy, leaning in to get a better look at the handbook, found herself conveniently near Betty’s ear, so she nipped at it playfully.

Betty laughed and pulled her in for a proper kiss. “If you’d stop distracting me…”

“Mmmm, not yet,” Betsy said, before kissing Betty again.

Once they had resettled, curled around each other and with much fewer clothes, Betsy asked, “Do you think she knew?”

“Who knew what?” Betty replied with a yawn. She rubbed her cheek against Betsy’s bare shoulder, her soft blond curls tickling Betsy’s skin.

“Peggy. Knew this would happen. With us.”

Betty tapped thoughtfully at Betsy’s collarbone. “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe not. I’m glad though, that she did introduce us.”

“Oh, very.”

“Now, Betsy dearest, come here. I think I need your help again.”

Betsy no longer minded being Betsy, not when she would rather be with Betty than be a Betty. And because of it, she was probably the most fortunate Betsy on Earth.


End file.
